83 - He's in My Dreams Again

  That night, Nexha slept deeply, but his body did not remain at rest. Something inside him was changing. His skin tingled, his muscles throbbed, and his wounds closed at an alarming speed. The exhaustion transformed into a suffocating heat, as if his own body were being forcibly reshaped.

  He dreamed of the ancient castle again.

  But this time, it was not in ruins.

  The once-decayed structure now shone with a golden glow. The walls were intertwined with brilliant details, as if liquid gold flowed through every crack. The stained glass windows gleamed, reflecting the moonlight over the calm sea, turning the water into a shimmering mirror. The grand doors were carved from gold and silver, displaying images that seemed to move when he blinked.

  This place was beautiful. Too beautiful to be real.

  And then, a voice cut through the silence.

  — My beautiful star… it’s been so long since you last visited me.

  Nexha froze.

  The man was there. Seated on a throne, his blue eyes piercing through him like blades of ice.

  He rose with the grace of a king, his steps fluid and flawless. His dark robes moved as if woven from both shadow and silk, each detail embroidered with golden thread.

  He descended the steps slowly, his posture impeccable, his presence majestic.

  That scared Nexha—after all, he had never seen him leave the throne before.

  But his face… did not match his elegance.

  His smile was there, but it was not a smile. Just the exact curvature of lips that should express something but failed miserably. His eyes were gentle, but there was no life in them. His gestures were tender, but they radiated no warmth.

  It was as if he were imitating emotions rather than truly feeling them.

  And that was terrifying.

  A cold hand brushed against Nexha’s face with delicate lightness.

  — What’s wrong, my star? Are you uncomfortable?

  Before he could react, he felt himself being pulled. Not with violence, but with a forced delicacy, as if he were being wrapped in invisible threads. The man embraced him with meticulous care, his fingers sliding through his silver hair.

  The touch was cold, but the pressure of his presence was overwhelming.

  — Shhh… it’s all right.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The voice was a velvety whisper, carefully controlled. Every word seemed chosen with surgical precision, as if he knew exactly the weight it needed to sound affectionate.

  — The gift I gave you may feel uncomfortable now… but soon, you will get used to it. I’m only helping you grow a little faster.

  Those words sent an icy wave through Nexha’s chest. He wanted to run, but his body was trapped, paralyzed by the man’s touch.

  Then, he whispered, close to his ear:

  — Don’t worry, my star… soon, you’ll be ready to become a beautiful woman, just as I remember.

  Nexha’s heart pounded.

  He tried to break free, but at that moment, unbearable pain shot through his body. His tail stretched, his bones expanded, his skin pulsed as if being rebuilt by fire and steel.

  The man merely watched.

  His smile unmoving. His blue eyes devoid of emotion.

  As if admiring an unfinished work of art.

  Nexha woke up with a scream.

  The sound echoed through the bamboo house, jolting Krahs, Lilay, and Jasper awake.

  Krahs was the first to move, advancing toward Nexha like a predator ready to attack any threat. But when his eyes landed on his son, they widened in shock.

  — What…?!

  Lilay rubbed his eyes, still sleepy, while Jasper, startled by the noise, stirred a little before snuggling back and falling asleep again, unaware.

  But Krahs… he understood.

  Nexha was different.

  His body, once small and fragile, was now almost the same size as Lilay’s. His muscles had developed, his tail had thickened and grown, his scales shimmered with a new intensity. His hands looked firmer, yet the calluses and wounds had vanished…

  Nexha was breathing rapidly, his eyes wide—not because of his sudden growth. No. That was secondary.

  He could still feel that cold embrace. Still feel that man’s touch in his hair. Still hear those horrible words echoing in his mind.

  He hugged himself, trembling, because the most terrifying part of that nightmare was the possibility of becoming a woman.

  — Dad… I had a nightmare about that perverted guy again.

  Krahs remained silent for a moment. His gaze hardened, his jaw clenched, and a dangerous glint flickered in his eyes. He took a deep breath, trying to mask the anger boiling inside him. But Nexha noticed.

  — You…— Krahs’s voice was low, but heavy with something dark. — You grew. But not naturally. This is dangerous, Nexha.

  His tone wasn’t just concern. It was fear mixed with a fury he was struggling to contain.

  Nexha tightened his arms around himself. He felt… strange. His body was stronger, but it felt wrong.

  He didn’t feel like himself. He felt like something someone had tried to mold, and unlike the system he knew, this one didn’t seem to give him a choice.

  Lilay yawned, his sleepy voice breaking the tense silence.

  — Daddy… is Nexha going to be okay?

  Krahs crossed his arms, his face serious.

  — I hope so. But… if the man from his nightmares forced this, Nexha might be in more pain than he should be.

  He sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. But the anger was still there, simmering beneath his skin, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

  — Dad…— Nexha’s voice was weak, hesitant. He wanted to ask. He wanted to know. But he was afraid of the answer. —When do you think Zhaelor will come back?

  Krahs looked at him. It wasn’t the first time, but Nexha noticed something different in the way his father was watching him. As if he were worried… but also furious about something he couldn’t control.

  — Soon, Nexha. He said he would only be gone for a few days.

  The old shark didn’t care about his son’s new size. He knelt down and, without hesitation, pulled Nexha close, holding him against his chest.

  — You must still be in pain from growing like this…— His voice was softer now, but still carried tension... Don’t worry, Nexha. I’ll take care of you.

  He ran his fingers through his son’s hair, as if trying to chase away the remnants of that nightmare.

  — Now sleep a little more.

  Nexha squeezed his eyes shut, trying to forget that unmoving smile, those cold eyes, those words.

  He didn’t want to sleep.

  But surrounded by Krahs’s protective warmth, he couldn’t fight the exhaustion.

  He fell asleep, but deep down, he knew that man would return to his dreams—because the protection Zhaelor’s presence had once given him was no longer there.